There’s a scrappy ambition behind Iron Lung that is admirable, especially as an indie film based on an indie game, rather than a big gaming franchise given the big-studio treatment. It’s a smaller film that clearly comes from a place of passion for the atmosphere of the game of the same title, as well as for how much love streamer Mark Fischbach (Markiplier) has for the material. But much like the premise, it’s a rickety vessel held together with duct tape, more impressive that it floats than flounders.

The bottled story makes sense as the premise is not all that engrossing. It’s the end times, and humanity needs to hunt for resources in an ocean of blood filled with monsters. That’s easy enough to read without the film’s talk about the stars going out and the trees becoming extinct, which plays little to no part in the immediacy of the mission. All we need to know is that the convict Simon (Markiplier) needs to pilot an experimental vessel into crimson depths and bring back some photos to clear his name. Spooky creatures lurk outside the craft, and madness creeps internally as Simon progressively loses his mind in isolation and regret.

The cinematography and production design for this film were first-rate, given the cramped submarine setting. Every compelling shot that can be found is graced, from the distant shots highlighting the many pipes to the close-ups of the rusted interiors to the extreme close-ups of the ticking console and weary eyes. The technology has a believable decay in its cold assembly and X-ray photography mechanism, which doubles as a light source. The longer that Simon occupies this setting, the more the madness makes sense. But for a film that runs well over two hours, the boredom also set in as well. While I’m sure the game has some intrigue and excitement in mapping an area with limited visibility, watching Simon track his position reads as more tedious than engaging. I don’t need to see a series of exterior shots to be terrified of the giant monster swimming through blood, but the crawling commitment to secret notes in panels and hearing voices that are not present never made this picture feel like it was something more than an impressive haunted house attraction with the sunken Titan submarine theme.

Pulling multiple duties in this picture, the big question is whether Markiplier can act as a lead character. The answer is…kinda. He avoids any laughable deliveries, given his long history of eccentric shouting on YouTube while playing video games. His performance is restrained enough to avoid falling into his comical cadence, but also so muted that his anxiety and despair of the situation don’t hit as hard. Compare his performance with that of the mostly unseen Caroline Rose Kaplan, who plays the commander addressing Simon for most of the movie through a speaker. There’s more emotion and urgency in her voice than in Markiplier’s, and the disparity is even greater when voice-acting titan Troy Baker briefly graces the speaker.

This is a clear case of style over substance, where style nearly prevails thanks to the engrossing environment. The brooding music and bleeding walls all add to the grim, pointless portrayal of a doomed future riding the death spiral. But the script, laced with lore about the Quiet Rapture and backstories about Simon’s past crimes, never felt compelling. Having never played this game, the dialogue rang more true of a video game that falls back on dramatic cliches, such as Simon’s poster-worthy remark, “This is not an expedition. It is an execution.” There was little surprise when I looked up the video game and found this exact line. There came a point in the third act where I had given up being invested in the ho-hum story, too drenched in vagueness to ever build momentum. I just sat back and felt like I was watching a special-effects guru show off his cool basement set, which made the film mildly more entertaining, even if there was too much time spent pointing out how neat the blood effects looked.

Iron Lung is a film in which the gallons of blood that flood an underwater vessel are more impressive than anything else inside it. I admire Markiplier’s work on a project he financed himself, but the skill here feels spread too thin. His strongest quality is, by far, his direction, given the atmosphere he weaves with great care. I’m intrigued enough to see what he could pull off if he were only directing and producing, putting all his effort behind the camera while a writer composed a less boring script and other actors took his cues that weren’t saddled in a voice booth. There’s a great filmmaker bursting out of this claustrophobic and slogging viscera, and there’s something remarkable about how much closer to the surface he rises than most debut directors.

Not available on any streaming platforms.

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